Twist Of Fate
by FrontBurner
Summary: This is the fanfic, of the tv show, of the comics about a bunch of kids who have had a really screwy life. In this fanfic, entitled A Twist Of Fate, Professor Charles Xavier is in a tragic car accident, and his protégé Scott Summers has to help the X-Men
1. Prologue

Prologue:

"Congratulations Director Haytin, on your new appointment."

Marcus John Haytin, the new Director of the National Security Taskforce, spun around in surprise. His appointment was still explicitly top-secret, unknown even to high ranking government officials. It was now four years after the Apocalypse disaster, and the government was doing everything in its power to avoid a second mutant-related catastrophe, including expanding its investigative techniques by hiring Haytin, former head of CIA intelligence accumulations (a technical term for master interrogator). A look of shock registered on his face upon recognition of the speaker, until his CIA training kicked in, revealing only a certain unhurried nonchalance that Haytin was definitely not feeling at being confronted this late at night.

"Thank you, Mr. Riley." He turned back around and headed across the street towards the theater where he had left his wife's purse. Riley followed.

"Well, I see you do know your stuff, eh? And please," grabbing Haytin's arm, "You can call me Lucas."

Haytin jerked his arm out of Lucas Riley's grasp. "What can I do for you, _Mr. Riley_? He asked forcefully, yet trying not to be so rude as to enrage him, knowing that with one sweep of his hand, Lucas could certainly end Haytin's life. "I have many things to take care of right now, if you don't mind."

"Take it easy; we wouldn't want you to have a heart attack and be found lying in the street somewhere, now would we? Your wife's purse can wait. It will stay in the lost and found until you get there." Lucas smirked menacingly. "You obviously know who I am, Director, so you must know what I can do." Lucas Riley was the evil alter-ego of David Haller, the son of the most powerful telepath in the world, Professor Charles Xavier, and therefore had inherited a considerable portion of his powers along with advanced abilities in morphing, pyrotic combustion, and telekinesis.

"Of course. I know all about you," he replied, "It's my job. Now, what do you want?"

"Well," Lucas began, his Scottish brogue unmistakable, "It's more of a question of what we can do for each other. I have '_heard_' that you are planning to ask Xavier to use his little X-Men as your contingents for your 'anti-mutant threat' campaign. I only want to help."

Haytin looked at him incredulously. "What do you mean by help? You know which list you're on. What's in it for you?"

Lucas grinned. "Of course, I know that you were planning on attempting to detain me, so I decided to save you all the damage and blood loss by _convincing_," Lucas' eyes flashed deviously, "the X-Men to help your cause."

"And what makes you think I need your help? What if Xavier consents? You have wasted your time." Haytin sneered at him. "I could have them take care of you easily."

"You Americans and your sense of humor. Really, it cracks me up." Lucas peered intently at Haytin's forehead. "Ha! You're bluffing. You know Xavier would never consent to you using the X-Men as mercenaries. I knew you were too smart to live on 'what ifs'. You need my help, because without it you won't get past Xavier. And even if he was taken care of, you still wouldn't convince the X-Men. They're all the same. No sense of the thrill of monetary gain."

"Is that want you want, Lucas, money? I am on a budget, you know."

"Of course I know. But unlike some of my contemporaries, I am not in it for the money. I could have as much as I want, of course. No, I am willing to help you in the name of revenge. And power, obviously. With Xavier gone, I will be the most powerful mutant in the world, you'll have your mercenaries, and I'll have my revenge."

"That's what you want? Are you mad? I can't let you be that powerful, you'll ruin my plans . . . I mean . . . uh," Haytin bit his tongue.

"Oh, I know all about your little plans. But, without me, they'll never come to fruition. Don't worry, though," he continued, "I'll be out of your way soon enough. I'll be off living on my own island, which you will award me, and you will be . . . oh yeah, that's a secret. Unless you cross me, then I will have to kill you." Lucas looked at him threateningly.

"So what do you say, eh, _Director_?"

Haytin glared at him, eyes full of hate. "I'm screwed if I do, and royally screwed if I don't." Lucas grinned. "It's a deal."

Lucas shook Haytin's hand, and then slowly began ascending into the sky, rising higher and higher until he disappeared from Haytin's view. Haytin shook his head pessimistically. He started walking once again toward the theater, all the while thinking how much more complicated his job had just become. "Oh, shit!" Haytin ejaculated vehemently as he was retrieving the lost purse. It surprised the lost and found attendant so much that he tripped backwards over his chair and later had to be taken to the hospital for a bruised coccyx, but he was one of the many unnoticed by Haytin, who had already walked out the doors.


	2. In The Beginning

Chapter One: "In The Beginning"

Picture this: On a cool Wednesday in late spring, a 1965 red Shelby Cobra with white racing stripes, traveled south on a winding road that was scattered with the shade of leaves on the maples that swayed in the breeze as the car raced past. One would think that on such a beautiful and relaxing day, the mind would naturally find something appropriately soothing to focus on. However, this was not the case of Scott Summers. The twenty-four year old young man had found himself thrown into quite a predicament. Though somewhat inexperienced, he was now the head of the large Institute for Gifted Youngsters, a boarding school for a constantly expanding group of young mutants, so today, his mind had not found joy in the beauty of nature, but was wandering to more pressing topics. This was not so with his companion, twenty-one year old Kitty Pryde. She had her hand thrust out the side window, playing with the gusts of air and daydreaming of the beginning of a new summer and all its ripe possibilities. Now and then, Kitty stuck both her hands above her head and waved them around; laughing at the way the air tried to push them back down inside the convertible. Ignoring his friend's lighthearted antics, Scott pulled into the closest gas station to fill up the tank for the last time before arriving at the Institute. Scott and Kitty were making their way back to the Institute after picking Kitty up earlier that morning from Columbia University for summer break. After filling up, Scott made his way inside to pay. Kitty remained in the car after seeing a familiar Jeep slowly pass close by the parking lot.

"And make sure you get me one of those yummy frappacino's, okay," Kitty yelled after him. Then, thinking to herself, "I wonder if that's Lance's Jeep? Oh my gosh! It is!" she squealed inside her head. She glanced uneasily at the station where Scott had just walked in the door, his back to her.

After spying Kitty in the all too familiar convertible, Lance quickly turned around and headed back toward the gas station, upsetting his traveling companion, Wanda Maximoff, who let off a string of curses relating to his absurd sentimentality. Lance pulled into the parking lot, and ignoring Wanda, got out, looked over, and caught Kitty staring in his direction. He waved and started walking over.

Kitty thought happily to herself, "He's coming over here." Then she glanced in the mirror, "Oh, crap! My hair!" She spat in her hand and smoothed her sleek brown hair back into its usual neat ponytail.

"Hey, sexy!" Lance called out, with his usual smirk plastered across his face.

Kitty laughed at his self-confidence, "Hey, babe!"

She smiled up at him as he came over and stood next to her door. He glanced up at the shop window where Scott was STILL standing in line. He rolled his eyes and looked back down at Kitty.

"So, what are you and Superdufus up to today?" Lance asked, sarcasm evident in his tone.

Kitty, ignoring his insult, answered, "I just got out of my last class and we're headed back to the Institute." She glanced past him and set her eye on Wanda. Cocking her head to the side she questioned, "So, what trouble have you gotten into today?"

Lance walked around to the other side of the car and got in. He grinned over at Kitty, who, once more, had begun nervously glancing in Scott's direction.

Lance rubbed his greasy hands on the steering wheel thoughtfully. He looked over at her and replied, "You know, if I was to tell you all that, I might need to have a seat first. Hope Cyclod doesn't mind."

Kitty, giggling, answered, "As long as you don't bury it anywhere." She looked over at Lance's Jeep, and asked, "Is that Wanda?"

"Yah," he rejoined uninterestedly. "So," he continued, "Did you miss me, Kate?"

"Totally! I was hoping to see you sometime this month while I'm on vaca! You_ can _come see me at Columbia, you know," she added, a little perturbed that he hadn't come see her but once after she had started there. Lance knew where this was going to end up if he didn't shift the course her mind was running to. "Do I get a 'Hello' kiss or what?" He looked at her hopefully, making the puppy-dog face he knew she couldn't resist. Kitty arched her eyebrow, knowing that this was his not-so-subtle attempt at changing the subject. However, just the thought of kissing him made the sides of Kitty's mouth slowly curve up enticingly as she gazed at him from beneath her lowered lids and replied, "Make it quick, and make it count."

X X X X X X X X X X

Scott finally reached the counter and proceeded to pay for the gas while joking with the cashier.

"Busy much?" Scott asked him, smirking at his own joke.

"Naw, dude," he replied. "Today's a slow day."

By now, the store had emptied except for one customer behind Scott, who had begun tapping her thick-soled boot against the floor. Scott turned around with a questioning look on his face and began to say something placatory until he recognized the boot's owner.

"Hey X-fag, where's your boyfriend?" Wanda asked sarcastically.

Scott replied, "Don't know, where's yours? Oh wait, Pietro's not here, is he?"

"_Nice_, your comebacks are as lame as your Professor," She stated derisively. "Learn much at the institution?"

"More than at yours," he rejoined. He rolled his eyes, annoyed, and then unexpectedly caught a glimpse of Kitty and Lance making out in his car. He walked over to the door while the cashier was making the change and yelled at Kitty, "Kitty, I told you, no trash on the upholstery! That's Italian leather you're ruining!"

Wanda snorted, "Looks like your fellow X-geek isn't such a loyal little cat after all. Isn't that what you would call fraternizing with the enemy? Oh I'm sorry," she continued, "I forgot, you're too retarded to understand that. Of course, that _is_ why you still live at the institute for the _gifted_."

"Really, Wanda, what's a girl like you doin' in a place like this anyways? I'd say it's a bit too classy for you," he answered sharply, getting a bit wound up at her still being there.

Kitty walked in holding hands with Lance.

"Scott, you through yet?" She asked him, and then continued after becoming aware of Wanda, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation with the Scarlet Bitch. Carry on."

Wanda looked at Kitty, and then acidly replied, "Hey, Slutocat."

Kitty sneered back and then wandered off to the drink coolers. Wanda turned to Lance and continued, "So, Lance, will your little kitty be joining us any time soon?"

Before Lance could reply, the cashier spoke up, addressing Scott, recognition in his eyes, "Look, you seem like a nice enough guy and all, but, come on, two X-Men and two Brotherhood walk into a gas station, I really don't want to see the butt end of that joke."

Scott stuck his hand out to shake the cashier's hand, replying, "That's okay, man, we were just leaving. _Weren't we?"_

Kitty walked back over to them, looked up at Lance with regret, and walked out the door with Scott.

She looked back over her shoulder at him, winked, and made kissing motions with her lips. He mouthed_ 'call me'_, and waved as he and Wanda got into the Jeep.

Kitty heard Scott mumble something and she turned around.

"Oh great," he muttered, looking down at his seat, "look what Avaloser left for me to clean up." He pointed down at his seat with disgust.

Kitty looked at the greasy butt print in the seat and stifled a grin, and replied, "I'm so sorry, Scott. I'll help you clean it up when we get home."

Scott tried to wipe as much of it off as he could with some tissue, and got in, stating, "I don't know what you see in that loser, anyway."

Kitty frowned at him, and instantly jumped to Lance's defense, "He's not as bad as you think he is. You just won't give him a chance to show you what a great guy he really is."

"I gave him a chance once and what did he do?" Scott retorted. "He went right back to the Loserhood."

Kitty was thoroughly pissed now, "Ooh, Scott you can be such an ass sometimes. The only reason he went back to the Brotherhood is because you drove him back. The first little thing that went wrong you accused him. And it wasn't even his fault. It's no wonder he hates you as much as he does. You just can't stand anyone who doesn't live up to your "perfect" standards." She turned towards the window and started mumbling to herself, "It's amazing that you have stayed with Jean so long."

Scott heard her comment. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked incredulously.

"I mean, how can you condemn Lance, when your own girlfriend isn't exactly the model citizen herself?" She replied. Then continuing, "You see what you want to and to hell with everything else."

"There isn't anything wrong with Jean. She is one of the most caring, unselfish people I know," he said, getting somewhat angry. "You need to get off the defensive and stick to the point."

Kitty grunted, "Yah, and I think you need to update the prescription on those rose-colored glasses of yours, cause you're blind to the truth."

"If anyone is blind to the truth, it's you Kitty," he answered her, amazed at her purposely ignoring the point. "We've told you time and time again that Lance isn't worth the time of day. I just don't want to see you get hurt by him when you finally realize that he is as much of a bum as we've made him out to be."

"How are you going to feel when you realize that Jean isn't the little Miss Perfect that you make her out to be?"

"Oh, come on, Kitty," he held, "Stop bringing Jean into this. She is irrelevant to the point. The point is that Lance is a loser and I don't think it's in your best interest to continue seeing him."

"Okay, yah, whatever. Just because you are in charge of the team does not mean you are in charge of my life, so just stay out of it. I'll date whoever I feel like dating; _THAT_ is the point. I'd like you to keep your opinion of my personal life to yourself from now on, if you don't mind."

Scott glanced at her, disappointed at her unconcern, "Hey, it's your heart's funeral."

When they arrived at the Institute, Kitty got out of the car, slammed the door, and skulked inside. She perked up at the sight of Pyotr coming down the front staircase. Scott tried to follow her in to apologize, but Kitty saw him coming in, ran up the stairs, grabbed Pyotr's arm, and dragged him toward the television room. Scott walked up the front steps shaking his head, when he was greeted suddenly by a rush of little footsteps as his goddaughter, three year old Rosie and his adopted son, five year old Nate ran to meet him, once again completing their daily ritual after nap. He squatted down and braced himself as they both tried to leap into his arms at once.

Scott laughed at their antics, "Whoa! You two are getting too big for that! See, Nate, look at your muscles. You're almost as big as me, little man."

"I gots bigger mussews dan him, Cykie!" Rosie squealed happily. "Wook!" She proceeded to show him.

"Nuh-uh," Nate argued, "I have the biggestest. Pop said so." He flexed his bicep to compare.

Scott smiled indulgently, "Wow, Rosie you are growing up so fast."

She beamed up at him.

"Where is your papa?" he asked.

Rosie replied, "He's in class, an' mama's wit Aunt Wogue."

"Let's go find your mama then," he stated, and then added, "Nate, where's your mommy, son?

Nate shrugged, "Don't know, Pop. I was sleepin'."

Rosie piped up, "I know! I know! Je's is wit Awowo. Dey's in de speshow pwace. Dey wundent take me wit dem. Hmph!" She crossed her arms in disgust at not being included. "Come on, sweetie. Let's go play with Uncle Wuvy." Scott picked up Rosie in one arm and Nate in another, and looked down at them, saying, "Nate, do you want to go play with Robby or Wolvie?"

Nate thought for a moment, "Let's go see Wolvie and Uncle Alex in the training room. They had class today. Mommy let me watch them in the control room 'fore my nap," and then giggling, "Uncle Alex got blasted!"

Scott arched an eyebrow unbelievingly, "Really? Let's go find out why, shall we?" He bounced them around in his arms as they made their way to the training room, three floors down.

The elevator doors opened and Logan was standing there criticizing Alex on his poor performance in the Danger Room that morning.

Rosie jumped out of Scott's arms and waddled as fast as she could, arms outstretched, towards Logan.

Rosie squealed at the top of her lungs, "Wuvy, Wuvy, Wuvy, Wuvy, Wuvy!!"

Logan caught her as she catapulted herself into his arms, and swung her high above his head.

Rosie was one of the few people who charm a smile out of her 'Uncle Wuvy', her favorite plaything in the whole world. She turned on her little wiles full force today, and had him grinning from ear to ear at her.

Logan growled, "So, have you come to start your training today, Little Soldier?"

Rosie rubbed her hands around in his hair and answered disinterestedly, "No, we cum to see what is wong wiv Nate's Uncew Awex."

Logan mumbled under his breath, "There's alotta things wrong with that boy, kiddo," he grimaced suddenly, "Ouch, cut that out, kid."

Meanwhile, Scott walked over to Alex and handed him Nate.

"Hey lil X-dude! Did you, like, already take your nap, man?" Alex juggled him around in his arms until Nate started to giggle.

Nate replied, still laughing, "Yep. An' Pop said we could see why you got blasted."

Alex whispered to him, "Dude, I was, like, totally scammin on this hot chick in class today, and I wasn't, like, lookin where I was supposed to, so I got knocked on the old can right in front of her. It was, like, a total wipeout. So, how's it goin with your chick friend?"

Nate whispered back, "Paige colored wit' me today. I drew a pitcher of a flower and she put it on her wawl."

"Good goin, lil dude," Alex smiled, "She, like, totally likes you."

Logan walked over with Rosie on his back.

"I got a hungry soldier here," Logan told them, "What do ya say we go up to the mess hall and get some grub?"

Rosie looked at them, her little face perplexed, "I wawnt a gwub. Nate, Wuvy said we couwd eat gwub. What's gwub?

Nate shrugged, "Maybe it's chocwate miwk."

X X X X X X X X X X

Later that day:

At the end of a lit corridor, two women emerged from behind an enormous high-security metal door. As they walked down the long hall, deep in conversation, one of them, Jean Grey, on the verge of tears, suddenly stopped and leaned her back against the cold steel wall.

"How long can this go on, Ororo?" she exclaimed. "Everyday is the same, no improvement at all. This non-success is a living hell!"

Her friend, Ororo Munroe, replied, trying to forestall the frustrations she could sense in Jean, "Just thank God that his condition doesn't grow any worse. I think the fact that it doesn't, is proof that he's still fighting."

Jean closed her eyes, trying to relax her mind, evidently depressed, "But everyday I try to connect with him telepathically, and all I find is an eternal vacuum. It's like looking into space with a telescope and not finding a single trace of a star anywhere. I feel ready to give up."

Ororo knit her brows at that comment, "How can you say that? Charles would never give up on you, and neither would anyone else. We will find the answers. We just need to keep fighting too!"

Jean stood up straight, and continued walking down the hallway, addressing Ororo, who followed, "That is so easy for you to say. You have the blind faith that he will come back to us fully restored. I have to search for him through the limitless caverns of his empty mind and everyday I find no hope of anything. I would give anything for one tiny glimmer of hope, just to hold me through until he wakes up. But I stare his death in the face for an hour every day and . . . and . . .," she broke down into tears, ". . . I can't do it anymore!"

"Jean, he'll be fine!" Ororo tried to reassure her, "Don't worry, you're doing a great job, and he'll be back in no time." She reached over and hugged Jean, adding, "And if Charles is gone, well, you know he wouldn't want us to be upset, but to move on and continue his work."

"But I can't!" She sobbed, "How can you be so calm? He is our family!"

Scott came around the corner further down the hall, looking for Jean. He saw Jean sobbing in Ororo's arms, and raced down the corridor to help comfort her. He took her gently from Ororo, and talked to her in a soothing tone, "Jean, sweetie, it's going to be okay. We'll work through this together, all right?"

She looked up into his face, tears streaming down hers. He tried to smile reassuringly, but it was obvious that her pain was affecting him deeply. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her to the elevator. Ororo decided to give them some privacy and so walked through the set of doors located across the hall from the elevators. She nodded and smiled weakly to Scott as he and Jean disappeared behind the closing doors.

"Jean, honey, maybe you have been overdoing it a bit lately," he began, "What do you think about a vacation or something? I don't want you to be too stressed out over this.

Jean snorted bitterly, "A bit late for that don't you think?"

Scott looked down at her in amazement. He had suspected that this would come eventually. After Professor Charles Xavier was in his near-fatal car crash that resulted in his now comatose state, Jean was the one who insisted on caring for him. She had even reassured Scott that she wouldn't become overworked in adding this to her already full plate of attending medical school, caring for their five-year-old son, and teaching at the Institute.

Scott thought for a moment, "Tell you what. I'll get Ororo to take over Charles' care for a week and Logan and Remy will keep the kids in line while we go see your parents this weekend and then head out to the Ranch in California." He looked down at her, "How does that sound?"

"Are you sure?" she replied, skeptically.

"Of course, he assured her, "I don't like to see you so exhausted all the time. I want you to be thoroughly rested up, especially for our honeymoon, _honey_." He smiled at her mischievously.

"Ugh! Scott!" She shoved against his shoulder in disgust, and then smirked, wrapping her arms around his waist and held her face up, waiting for a kiss. Scott leaned down close to her face until they were nose-to-nose and whispered, "I just want you to be happy, Jean. I would do anything to guarantee that."

"Well you could do _one_ thing," she replied impishly, starting to play with the buttons on his collar.

Scott laughed, "And what would that be, madam?"

Jean encircled her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, whispering, "Kiss me, already!

"My pleasure," he rejoined, pressing his mouth firmly against her soft lips.

The elevator doors opened suddenly, and the two people standing in the hall waiting were surprised to find Scott and Jean kissing passionately inside.

Remy LeBeau arched an eyebrow, and said laughing, "Get a room!"

His wife Rogue, taken aback, covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head. "An' ah thought ya'll was s'possed to be settin' a _good_ example!" she drawled.

Scott grinned sheepishly, "Sorry."

Jean, blushing, stuttered, "Uh . . . we were just leaving . . . come on Scott!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him after her down the hall.

Remy, still laughing, called after them, "Oui, mon ami, make love, not war, ha ha!"

Rogue punched him on the shoulder, and shoved him in the elevator before he could make anymore insinuating remarks. "Would you come_ on_!" she exclaimed, "We're alreddy late foah the instructuh's meetin'." She continued, her Southern twang unmistakable, "An' since Scott an' Jean obviously ain't commin', somebuddy's gotta be theyah to listen to Hank drone on. An' since you started helpin' in tha athletics with Logan, you gotta listen to him too, pal."

The doors opened on the first floor where they exited the elevator, and proceeded towards the library, where almost all the instructors were assembled for the usual weekly assignments.

Remy let out a sigh, "Oh, well. Come on, ma chere, boredom is waiting."

He took her gloved hand in his and they walked through the double doors to the library together. The group that met their eyes consisted of: Hank McCoy, Head of the Science Department and the Advanced Physical Sciences instructor; Ororo Munroe, Head of the Humanities Department, and the World History instructor; and James Logan, Head of the Athletic Department and Advanced Abilities and Weaponry Trainer. The younger group consisted of the X-Men who were either in or had just graduated college, and had stayed on to teach the others. They were: Kurt Wagner, German instructor; Allison Blair, Music instructor; Bobby Drake, Offence Coordination Trainer and Computer Sciences instructor; Warren Worthington III, Advanced Math instructor; Kitty Pryde, Dance and Chemistry instructor; Pyotr Rasputin, Art instructor; and of course Rogue LeBeau was the American History instructor, and her husband Remy, the Defense Coordination Trainer, and French instructor. Rogue noticed that Scott (the English instructor) and Jean (the Biology instructor) were still missing. She let go of Remy's hand with a smile, promising to get his French requirements for the week, and walked over to her department's group that was already starting to gather around Ororo.

Ororo clapped her hands together several times to get their attention, causing an elongated rumbling effect that echoed off the stately antique oaken bookshelves of the grand library.

"Okay people," she began, "settle down. Let's get this over with as quickly as possible. I know you can all think of other places you'd rather be. This week's assignments are also to include last week's make-up work. Let's try to get it _all _in this week." She glanced over at Kurt, who shrugged apologetically, "We have a schedule to keep. By the way, since Scott couldn't make it, would someone volunteer to take his assignments to him for me?

Rogue answered, "Ah' saw him while ago. Ah'll take it up to him for ya."

Ororo smiled her appreciation, "Thank you, Rogue." She then started giving out curriculum assignments.

Pyotr Rasputin looked over at the other groups. He wondered if they were as bored as he was. His eyes wandered over the faces until they found Kitty's and there they stopped. She was cracking jokes with Bobby while Hank was trying to organize some of his files. Kitty felt someone looking at her and glanced around the room. She saw Pyotr staring at her intently. She made a yawning motion and smiled at him.

Pyotr sighed, and thought to himself, "It is too bad that she is likink that Lance clown. We are havink so much fun, when we are being togethers."

Ororo had almost finished giving out the assignments when she turned to Pyotr, "And that brings us around to art. Pyotr. Ahem. Pyotr?"

Pyotr turned quickly around, flushing, "Da?"

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Rasputin," she smiled, having seen him focused on Kitty instead of the assignments, "Your assignments are to have the students sketch or paint from life. Follow the guidelines in the curriculum to introduce the technique and then you can improvise." She handed him his folder, saying, "This is a week-long project, so make sure you are thoroughly prepared, okay?"

Pyotr flipped through it, pretending to pay attention, but his mind was still on the cute little brunette across the room, "This is acceptable. Is that all?"

Ororo skimmed through her files, looking for something she might have forgotten, "Yes, everything seems to be in order . . . No, wait, one more thing," she pulled out a piece of paper and skimmed its contents before handing it over to him, "It is recommended to have several examples, either by you or by the masters. Now we're done," She turned to the rest of the group, "You may all go now, and make it quietly, please."

Her group, anxious to get out, rushed from the room in a single mass, all the while each feeling sorry for Hank's group boredly listening to the importance of following safety guidelines during experimentation. Rogue passed by Bobby, and noticed him rolling his eyes. She walked closer to him and slapped him in the back of the head.

Bobby yelled, "Ow! What the heck was that for!"

Rogue glared at him, and chided, "Pay attention, ya dufus! Else you'll end up lak me, or worse!"

After getting over his shock, Hank added, "Rogue is right, Bobby. After she lost her powers, though she didn't have a problem with it, she did acknowledge that following safety procedures would have prevented it."

Bobby looked at Hank and then at Rogue, who had just walked through the double doors, shaking her head. "Sheesh! Sorry, okay. I totally didn't think it was even that important," he said semi-apologetically.

"All right, Bobby. Just listen next time," Hank handed him a sheaf of papers, "Here are your assignments for the week," He turned to her Kitty, "Here are yours, and would you mind taking Jean's assignments to her?"

Kitty looked through her assignments absentmindedly, and replied, "Sure, like okay, I guess."

If Kitty appeared distracted, it was because she most definitely _WAS_.

She had called Lance almost directly after coming in that afternoon when she had finally ditched Pyotr with the kids watching Johnny Bravo in the T.V. room. She had sat there for almost an hour on the phone and totally ragged on Scott, but Lance hadn't even insulted him once. Something was definitely wrong here. They were going out on one of their dates tonight, and Lance had said he was going to pick her up. He knew better than that. _Never,_ under any circumstances, was he allowed to pick her up at the Institute. The Defcon 5 system would probably attack him before he got within three feet of the gates. She walked from the room, preoccupied with Lance's cryptic comments, and ran straight into Pyotr's broad chest, where he was waiting for her in the hallway. She started walking toward the elevator, with Pyotr following close behind her.

Kitty looked over her shoulder at him, smiling apologetically, "Oh, sorry Pyotr, I didn't see you there." She reached the elevator, pushed the button and then turned to him, "What's up?"

Pyotr peered intently at the laces on his boots, "Vell," he began, looking everywhere but at her, "I am vantink to know if you are goink to vatch the Fortune Veel vith us tonight?"

Kitty frowned regretfully, "Sorry, Pete," she answered, using her favorite nickname for him, "I gotta date with Lance tonight. How about tomorrow night?"

"This is okay," he answered her, all the while thinking to himself, "Her Lance is not so great. I bet I am much more of the man than he is."

Kitty, sensing his disappointment, offered, "Or, better yet, tomorrow, you and I can go catch a movie at the Cineplex in town. How's that sound?"

Pyotr looked up from his shoelaces and agreed happily, "Okay, vee vill go see movie in town."

"See you later," She replied, as she reached over and hugged him, and then got into the waiting elevator. She rode for a few seconds in silence, still thinking about Lance until the doors opened, and revealed the waiting Rogue.

Rogue grinned at her best friend, "Hey, Kat," then seeing her worried look, asked, "What's wrawng? You looked really preoccupied at the instructor's meetin'."

Kitty shook her head, "It's nothin'. Just, Lance is acting weird. He didn't make fun of Scott one time this afternoon when I was talkin' on the phone with him. And he wants to pick me up here tonight. Is he trying to get himself killed? Rogue, I'm worried. Lance said that we needed to talk tonight. What if Scott was right about him? I don't think I could handle it if Lance turned out to be the person Scott makes him out to be. He's going to be here in an hour and I'm totally freakin' out here!"

Rouge smiled knowingly at Kitty's anxiety, "Kat, calm down. If I've learned anythin' bout' Lance, it's that he adores you," she shrugged, and offered, "Maybe he's decided to come back to the good side."

Kitty snorted incredulously and replied, "Have you been drinking to much bayou backwash or something! After what happened last time, Lance would sooner see us all pooted off the face of the earth than put up with us again!"

Rogue laughed at her. "Kit, you seriously need to de-analize. Lance likes you a lot. He probably even loves you. Stop over thinking everything; you're starting to sound like Jean."

Kitty looked at her darkly, "Do you want to die a painful death? Cause I can make it happen. Don't you think I know my own boyfriend?"

"Geez, didn't thank you was so touchy. What's up between you an' Jean anyways?" Rogue replied, taken aback at her friend's unusual hostility.

"Sorry, Rogue. I just . . . oh, never mind," Kitty stumbled out.

"No prob. Just thank about what I said, 'kay?" Rogue smiled tenderly at her best friend before turning to go. Kitty smiled back inattentively. She was already contemplating Rogue's words, secretly wanting to believe them, but had already been hurt too much by Lance to give any credulity to the thought that he would give up anything for her. They may like each other a lot, but she was convinced he still hung out with her only to annoy Scott and Xavier. It was okay by her; they needed to learn their place anyhow. However, she wanted it to be more than just a fun fling. She just wished Lance would feel the same.

X X X X X X X X X X

Thursday:

On the end of a narrow alleyway, a figure silently emerged from the shadows. After cautiously observing her surroundings, she had made her way to the place where she knew _he _would be. Muscular, slim, and what most men in their right mind would call sexy; this woman had a purpose. And like all women who set their minds toward one ultimate goal, she would stop at nothing until she got what she wanted, even if it meant stooping to this level of degradation. This was what led her in the direction of the labs on the campus of Brown's medical school. If one had seen her reflection across the brick wall, it would no longer appear tall, stately, and powerfully built, but had become more slender, graceful, and poised as she made her way to the edge of the passageway. She was none other than Mystique, a domineering metamorph who was on a mission of retribution against the two who had slighted her four years before. In her mind, forever was not long enough to pay back those by whom she had been affronted. Now, she had found just the man to help her settle the score, _and for good this time._

X X X X X X X X X X


	3. A New Creation

Chapter Two: "A New Creation"

Jean Grey walked briskly across the Brown campus toward the labs. She was on her way to her last class of the semester. As far as was possible at that moment, she was happy. She had spent the previous night packing with Scott for their newly instituted annual vacation to her parent's house and his family ranch in California. They would have a nice break from the everyday humdrum. She could just see his smiling face as they joked last night about how disappointed Alex was going to be at not coming also. She thought about how happy Nate was going to be when she told him that he could finally get to surf like his Uncle Alex had always talked about. And that made her happy. She had decided to dwell on the positive, at least for a week, and like Scott had told her, she had felt better. Now if only he had a solution for her stupid powers acting up again. She frowned. "Well, there goes my good day," she thought as the memory of last night replayed in her head.

-She had been having the same nightmare almost every night for the past two weeks. Her dreams were constantly filled with an immense and hollow darkness, with her standing in the middle of it, entirely alone. She would desperately call out for a familiar face, anyone who would save her from being totally isolated. But, every night the answer was the same. A fiery being, that she had come to find out was a phoenix, a birdlike creature found in ancient mythology, would descend upon the blackness and envelop her into all its flaming brilliance and speak to her in a familiar voice. At first, it scared her to no end, but after a while, she got used to basking in the warmth of the glowing force that emitted from somewhere within the creature. Last night she had finally worked up the courage to reply to the creature when it called her name. She shuddered at the thought of its reply:

"_Jean, Jean,"_ the phoenix whispered into the depths of her soul.

Jean looked around, crying to herself at being unable to find her friends. "What is it you want from me?" She screamed at it, frustrated.

"_Jean, come with me. You have a greater destiny to fulfill than this. You and I are the same. Together, we will never be alone again. We will be unstoppable!"_

Jean could feel her body slowly rising to meet the descending Phoenix. She felt her powers expanding, and surprisingly she kept control over them. She loved the feel of the rush of warmth as she approached the blazing light force. Jean felt an uncontrollable urge to sprout wings and fly away. She lifted her arms and breathed in deeply. Never before had she experienced such a feeling of strength and well-being. The Phoenix drew closer and closer, heating the air around her with its furious brilliance until she could not bear it any longer. Suddenly, the fire stopped. In its place remained a constant glow she could still feel deep inside her breast.

"_Jean, we will be always together; you won't have to feel alone again. Now as one, we can fly over the universe, casting our eternal brightness over its shadow," _said the Phoenix's voice, which suddenly came from within the recesses of her mind. _"Come, let us take flight!"_

Jean could feel her body engulfed in flames. Surprisingly, its inferno no longer hurt her, but warmed her against the darkness like a snug blanket on a frigid winter day. She sensed wings spring from her back, anxious to begin their first journey. She glanced all around her, observing her surroundings growing fainter and fainter as she ascended higher into oblivion. Then, from out of nowhere, she saw a tiny speck beneath her. She could hear the speck calling out to her. "Jean, Jean, come back!"

She recognized the voice. Only one voice could melt her soul into tiny pieces. She felt a surge of pain at the thought of having to leave him for this new, great thing. She couldn't. She wasn't strong enough to live without him. Nothing could change that. _"Scott!"_ She cried, desperately fighting the power drawing her away from him. _"Scott, save me! I can't escape the force. It's pulling me away!"_ She saw him slipping further away, out of her reach forever_._ "NOOOOOO! Scott!" She screamed, now fully turned toward him, trying to dive headlong towards the ground, but the Force kept wrenching her away. "Nothing is worth this!" She cried, as he slipped out of view. And then she awoke, her sheets scorched and sweat dripping from every pore on her body. She quickly got up, looked at her surroundings and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn't believe what she saw. Her eyes flashed, a swirling blaze of flames had turned her brilliant emerald eyes a gleaming amber color. She looked down at her hands. They were still emitting occasional flames from her fingertips. Her skin had a brilliant glow to it that was still abating. She breathed heavily again, this time consciously relaxing every muscle. When she opened her eyes, not only did she feel and look more like her old self, but she was also surprised to see a figure quietly slip through the wall adjoining their two rooms. She knew at once that it was Kitty, and was instantly worried about how much Kitty had witnessed. She walked quietly out her door into the hallway, and stopped just outside Kitty's door listening for any sound, and then for her thoughts. Jean turned the knob that Kitty had locked, and mentally released the latch. She found Kitty shaking uncontrollably, but still preparing to return to bed.

"Kitty," she called quietly.

Kitty looked over at her, visibly shocked. "Stay away from me, Jean. I didn't see anything," she lied hurriedly, shrinking as far away from the approaching Jean as possible.

"Kitty, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you!" Jean reassured her.

"Yeah, right!" Kitty blurted, looking at Jean strangely. She had seen Jean's screwy powers unconsciously attempt to kill her just minutes ago. "You just tried to kill me, Jean! And it's not been the first time either! Just stay where you are!" Kitty was growing more and more uncomfortable as Jean came and stood next to her bed.

"I am so sorry, Kitty! I would never purposely hurt you. I," Jean looked away uncomfortably, "I just don't know what's been going on with me lately. I've been having such strange nightmares." Jean looked back at Kitty, who was by now already standing back up on the opposite side of the bed, trying to keep something between her and Jean.

"Yah, well, you should maybe think about getting your powers under control. I've been doing the same thing every night for the past two weeks. And tonight was the worst! I can't handle it anymore, Jean," Kitty looked at Jean straight in the eyes, hoping to find a sign of her old friend, instead of this new thing that was scaring her so. She found it.

"Kitty! What have you been doing?" Jean stared at her, surprised and then worried, "What have I been doing? Did I hurt you?"

Jean listened to her mind before Kitty could reply. In that brief few seconds before Kitty could think of an answer that wouldn't cause too much shock, Jean saw it all.

How every night her nightmares had woken Kitty up. How Kitty had come in, and amidst the flying debris and flaming creatures spinning about Jean's room, had managed to restrain Jean until she calmed down. And how Kitty had kept it to herself after Jean showed no sign of remembrance every morning. Jean saw all this in Kitty's mind and was touched to her core that she could have a friend that devoted to her safety and well-being.

"Well," Kitty began, pulling her pillow up in front of her face, unsure of what to say, "Not so much . . ."

Jean interrupted her. "Kitty, I know. I am so sorry for all I have put you through. Why didn't you tell me?"

Kitty peeked at Jean from behind her pillow. "You seemed too stressed as it was, you know, and like, I thought you were going to get over it."

"And what if I didn't?"

"Well, I was like, fixing to tell Scott. I knew you would want to deal with it on your own. Since now you know, you can do what you want. But, you definitely need to fix your little problem," Kitty replied, staring at her pointedly. –

Jean shook her head sadly. Though they had stayed up all night discussing how to deal with her powers expanding, neither of them had come up with a credible solution. Both had decided it would probably be best not to tell Scott now, since he also was stressed out. Jean knew he would find out eventually, and did not like keeping secrets from him, but she felt she didn't have much of a choice, especially after what she had dreamed about them. She would just keep it to herself until he de-stressed and then break it to him gently.

She reached the labs and sought out her lab partner, Eddie Malheurst. They had become good friends ever since he transferred to Brown about a year ago. She made her way toward their usual table, scanning the room for his face.

"Hello, Jean Grey. Who are you looking for?" A voice with hints of an English accent came from behind her.

"Eddie, you're late! I'm surprised!" Jean turned around, her face smiling now, and beheld the sight of Eddie, her tall, well-built, handsome lab partner. Eddie grinned, flipping his auburn bangs out of his eyes.

"Well, Dr. Grey, what of it? I had to meet my girlfriend my way over here. We had some urgent business to take care of," Eddie rejoined, looking into her face, as if searching for something.

"Since when do you have a girlfriend, Eddie? You never mentioned her before." Jean started setting up her equipment, and Eddie began taking down the instructor's directions.

"You wouldn't like her, she's not your type," he replied seriously, not looking up from his legal pad. Jean could see the edge of his mouth turn up slightly and she laughed.

"Very funny." She bit her pen, thinking of something humorous to return with.

"Don't strain yourself, Jean. You might pop a brain cell," Eddie joked, and walked around to the other side of the table, just out of her reach.

"Eddie! Get back over here so I can hit you," she commanded, looking at him, with an amused look on her face.

The instructor replied before Eddie could move, "Do I need to sit you children outside? Other people have come to learn and you are interrupting them."

Jean blushed, "Sorry, sir. It won't happen again," she replied, and promptly ignored Eddie for the rest of the class. At the end of class, she walked out without a word to him. Eddie rushed after her and caught her in the parking lot as she was about to get in her car.

"Jean, wait," he began, but stopped, out of breath.

"What Eddie? I have to get home before seven and I still have a three hour drive to go."

"Jean, I'm sorry I got you in trouble, okay? We were just joking around. That guy just has a stick up his . . ."

"Eddie!" She interrupted him before he could complete his expletive. "I appreciate your apology. I just don't want to be penalized for joking around."

"I know, and I'm sorry. Just don't leave mad, okay?" he pleaded, obviously upset at her being mad at him.

"I'm not mad at you, Ed. I'm mad at myself. I should have known better," she replied.

"I didn't want you to feel bad, that was all," he added.

She stared at him, hoping her feelings weren't _that_ visible. "What do you mean?"

"You looked upset. I thought maybe you'd like a bit of cheering up," he answered, smiling down at her.

"I had a long night, that was all," she explained, then looked at her watch. "Listen, I'm running late, and I have to go somewhere tonight. I'll see you in August."

"So, we're good?"

"Yah," she replied, and shut the car door. Rolling down the window, she added, "Maybe when I get back, you'll introduce me to your girlfriend. See you then!"

"Bye," Eddie replied and waved as she drove out of the parking lot. He watched until her car was out of sight, and then turned to walk to his own car. He wasn't surprised to find his 'girlfriend' waiting for him there.

"Oh, how touching!" She said affectedly, and gestured with her finger under her eye, "A tear."

He looked at her darkly, "Just get in the car."

"No problem, _boss_," she replied sarcastically. "I just didn't want to miss that touching farewell. It's just so emotional!" she added, sighing heavily, evidently trying to offend him. He got into the car and unlocked the other doors.

"Shut up and get in, _Mystique_," he commanded her again.

Mystique smirked mockingly at him. "Well, have you lovebirds set a date? I want to be there to see the look on old Summers' face when you break the news to him."

Eddie's accent became more pronounced until it was unmistakably of Scottish origins, "Must you always be so acerbic, or is it just unavoidable?" Mystique grinned again as she watched Eddie transform back into his original self, Lucas Ian Riley.

"It's fun to be derisive, or don't you agree?" she replied, glancing out the window as she spoke, waiting to hear the plans she had come for. She didn't have time for his corniness. Time was running short and she had to get busy or forget it. And forget is something she never did. Ever.

"Yah, I know what you're wanting. It can wait until we get back to my place. I have some other stuff to go over first. And get your mind out of the gutter!" He said, after hearing her thoughts.

Mystique glared at him. "I don't have all day to wait on you, so I might as well have some fun."

Lucas laughed, clearly amused, "You're a naughty girl, Mystique. I don't have time for _that_ kind of fun."

Mystique reached over and placed her hand on his leg, and replied seductively, "Woman, Lucas. I'm a very bad woman."

Lucas, still driving, removed her hand from his leg telekinetically, saying, "Now, Mystique, this is purely a business relationship, nothing more."

"Ah, but what is business without pleasure?" She asked mischievously.

"A job done," he answered gravely.

By now, they had arrived at 'his place', as he liked to call it. In reality, it was a government owned duplex, normally used as a safehouse for the witness protection programs, which he had skimmed off Haytin in their deal. It was an awesome Victorian style mansion, well furnished with comfortable archetypical furniture. Lucas chose it, reasoning to Haytin at the time, "If you're going to be evil, why not do it in style. You expected a dingy warehouse, no doubt."

Mystique was impressed, a rare thing for her on any occasion. Of course, she didn't show it, but got out of the car, looked over at Lucas across the hood, and asked, "So, where do I sleep?"

He rolled his eyes, exasperated, "Try to be serious, would you? We have work to do."

As they made their way to the mansion, and walked through the antique oak door, Mystique promptly took note of her surroundings.

From where she stood in the massive foyer, waiting impatiently for Lucas to disable the security system, she could see that off to her left was a well-furnished sitting room, which she took to be the parlor. Opposite the of the sitting room, was a library, stocked with a multitude of literary classics, and stylishly decorated with cherry bookcases, forest green walls, several chairs covered in luxurious russet colored leather, a large oriental rug spread on the floor, various antique tables and lamps, and a large cherry wood desk situated near a large bay window.

Directly in front of her, was an almost ostentatious winding stairway that led up to the second floor.

Beyond that, were doors that led to the kitchen, dining room, downstairs lavatory, and what she assumed to be a small elevator.

Lucas gestured for her to follow him up the staircase.

"Business or pleasure?" she said with a smirk.

"Aahh! For the last time, it's strictly business!!"

He stomped up the stairs and she followed as they made their way up the aging stairway. At the top, they turned to the left.

Mystique absorbed the lush surroundings in one swift glance. The classic paintings, the antique wall runners, the Victorian light fixtures; her eyes took it all in, categorized, and pushed it to the back of her mind. Lucas took her to a door at the end of the hall, and opened it into a gorgeous bedroom.

"This is where you will be situated for the time being," he stated, "Now, if you don't mind following me back downstairs, I will go over the plans."

His tone gave no room for argument, so she stood up to the full of her imposing stature, and regally followed him back down into the foyer.

Lucas, somewhat relieved that she didn't repeat her little come-on's again, led her into the library where they found a man there, obviously getting impatient.

"Ah, Haytin, so nice of you to wait," Lucas began, smirking slightly. He walked over, claimed a plush armchair, and motioned for Mystique to take a seat. She sauntered through the walkway between the coffee table and sofa, keeping her eyes on Haytin the entire way. She took a seat across from Haytin, closer to Lucas, but enough out the way to observe without being too conspicuous.

"So," he continued, obviously delighting in watching Haytin play with his watch nervously. "Now that we're all finally on the same page, let's get down to business. Mystique here has agreed to assist us," here he indicated Mystique, who raised her chin, arched an eyebrow, and leered menacingly at Haytin, who shivered slightly, knowing her reputation, "in our communal efforts to bring the so-called mutant 'problem' to an end, each in our own ways. Haytin," Lucas addressed him, "have you got the intelligence reports on the Institute that I requested?"

Haytin swiftly reached into his large black briefcase and retrieved a crisp manila folder filled with structural statistics regarding the Westchester institute that Xavier built, including satellite surveillance photos of add-ons since the Defcon 4 and Apocalyptic incidences. He handed them across to Lucas, who flipped through them carelessly before passing them over to Mystique to consider. She studied each one carefully, while still listening intently as Haytin continued.

"Really, Lucas, I would have thought with all the pressure you are applying on me for urgency, you would pay more attention to the details," Haytin stated, glancing from Lucas to Mystique questioningly.

"Well, since you obviously don't know yet, Mystique will be doing a lot of the leg work for this project," and then sensing Mystique's reply, he quickly looked over before she could say anything and command her darkly, "Don't say it!!" He then turned back to Haytin, still perturbed at Mystique's constant uncouthness, and continued, "Anyway, I will be concentrating on the more complex problems in our preparations. From now on, you can just forward all the documentation directly to her, at this address, naturally, as I will be unavailable at most times from now on. Since she reports directly to me on all matters, you can be assured that I will still be overseeing the itinerary until completion."

Haytin nodded and glimpsed over at Mystique, who, nodding slightly to acknowledge him, continued perusing the documents intently. He turned back to Lucas and persisting on the topic, "Well, now that I have delivered the floor plans as you requested, what else is there left before you begin?"

"Ah, ye of little faith," Lucas replied, sarcastically sacrilegious. "My strategy is already in play, you needn't worry. I have resolved the 'hacking and tracking' as it were. Now, all that remains is the incursion of the institute, and that is what is being planned as we speak. Mystique is the master at these things, and on such a grand scale, she is unsurpassed for such a project. All that remains for me to do are the primary infiltrations, the targets of which you are already aware," he said, indicating the file, which Haytin now held in his hand that consisted of the names of highly evolved mutates that they were planning to use. He went on, "We will soon be ensconced within their group and draw our targets from there. When we have accomplished this, I estimate the remainder of the project to be a mere two weeks before completion. Once I have delivered the securing device that will keep them all in line, you may take over the control of your little strike force, as I will officially be retired, luckily for you."

"And, when will this joyous day be?" Haytin asked acerbically, anxious to know when he would be free of Lucas' meddlesome influences.

"Sooner than I expected, actually," Lucas replied, ignoring Haytin's courageous jab. "Primary target is well within reach. In only twelve days countdown, we will have incorporated the perfunctory device within her brain, and with it acting as a restraining agent on expansion of independent thought, we will use her as a 'devolution cell' for the others."

"If you are so close" Haytin queried, "Then why the wait? Why not even sooner?"

"Because, you dolt, I said so, that's why." Lucas' tone left no room for argument, and yet, Haytin pressed on.

"That is unacceptable, Mr. Riley! It is adamant that I have full range access on your plans, or else I cannot be held responsible for your demise. Your say-so is intolerable and offensive! The reason, if you will," Haytin stared Lucas straight in the eyes, trying not to betray the fact that he could have slapped himself for his stupidity just then.

Lucas arched an eyebrow, amused at his tone, "Well, Director, have you decided to finally grow a pair?" Mystique snorted, and tried to control her laughter at hearing the hilarity of Lucas' accent pronouncing those words. Lucas looked over to her, also apparently pleased with himself, and upon seeing the look on her face addressed her, "Mystique, would you terribly mind being a dear and getting me a coffee? I wouldn't want you to witness my ripping him yet another pair, as accustomed as you may be to the sight." Mystique, though somewhat maddened at being treated like a lackey, acquiesced due to her good humor and the amusement of Haytin about to get his. She rose elegantly from her armchair, and strode grandly out to find the door that led to the kitchen, grinning with bared teeth at Haytin as she passed. When she had quitted the room, Lucas rose from his seat walked behind his desk and then turned back to Haytin, leering at him malevolently. "So, Director Haytin, you want a reason, eh?"

Haytin nodded ever so slightly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and regretting his decision to get out of bed that morning.

"Not usually being what people might call a nice person, I have graciously decided not to eliminate you at this moment, since you are still a pawn in my little game. Muahahaha!" Lucas laughed at his attempt at the usual 'evil-genius' laugh.

Haytin frowned at Lucas' impertinence, though still sighing in relief at not being flung off the face of the earth. "Very funny," he answered Lucas.

Mystique returned then, carrying Lucas' coffee over to his desk, and overhearing his last comment, added, "Yeah, muahahahah!" in Lucas' voice.

"Yeah, now we are officially evil," Lucas laughed. "Anyway, back to business." He looked back over to Haytin, who was sitting there, bewildered at their antics.

"Are you two nuts!? I'm going to lose my job if this is not taken care of immediately! Now, what is the hold up?" Haytin was constantly becoming bolder as they continued, as he had little tolerance for such activities.

"Your job is not the only thing your in danger of losing, Haytin," Lucas replied, with intent. "There are still some factors that need to be resolved before we proceed. Otherwise, you might as well run this into the ground, for all it will be worth, if I don't."

Haytin nodded, somewhat appeased, knowing that was as much as he would get. He stood to leave, saying, "Well, if that is all, I have an appointment with a senator that I'm now late for. "

Lucas walked with him to the door, and opened it for him, stating as Haytin walked through, "Two weeks from now, I expect to hear back from you, Haytin. Get my place in order, and I'll be out of your hair."

Haytin frowned, but nodded acquiescingly. He walked down the steps to the black Crown Victoria that had been waiting for him, and opened the door.

"And give my regards to that stupid-ass Senator Kelly," Lucas added as Haytin was getting in. Haytin slammed the door without commenting, but Lucas knew he was broiling inside, which made him smirk gleefully. He turned back to go into the house, and addressed Mystique, who was waiting in the foyer.

"What have you come up with?"

"Well, the floor plans have several new add-on's that I still need to familiarize myself with, but there is another option other than just storming the place once I deactivate the security system," she paused, trying to determine whether or not it would be appropriate to mention it.

"And?" he replied, walking past her back into the library and plopping down on the sofa.

"And, well, _someone_ could be used as a mole, and determine the infrastructure from the inside, before we take the main target," she suggested.

"Who did you have in mind? Yourself?" he asked unconcerned, laying back on the sofa and resting his eyes, waiting for a reply.

"Of course not," she replied, mentally kicking herself for not thinking of it before, but still not wanting the mental anguish of having to see _them_ more than was unavoidably possible. "I had someone else in mind; someone who is already somewhat situated there, and wouldn't mind, or could at least be _persuaded_ to help."

Lucas sat up slowly, thinking over her plan, and hearing her suggestion before she could speak it. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed, and then pressed his fingers against his temples, as if searching for something deep inside the recesses of his mind. Mystique slightly smiled at the compliment, and sat down across from him, about to continue her thought, when he turned to her and said, "He'll be in town tonight with a friend. Contact him there."

Mystique nodded, "Will you be there, or not?"

Lucas thought for a moment, "I may be in the neighborhood, if he has changed more than we thought. Otherwise, you can just take care of it yourself." Lucas lay back down, telling her, "Excuse me, if you will. I am exhausted and I have to rest before my big date with destiny." He motioned for her to leave.

"You know," she replied as she reached the door to the library, "Irene is really not your type. She is a bit too domesticated for someone like you."

"Get out!" he yelled.

"I hope you know, you sound like Shrek!" she yelled back and then slammed the door before he could reply. She walked down the front steps, morphing into a non-descript brown haired woman, and chuckling to herself as she walked down the street.

X X X X X X X X X X


End file.
